


But One Day the Time May Come

by communikate



Series: Oh my god, they were soulmates! [3]
Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alpha Lance (Voltron), Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Angst with a Happy Ending, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Flirting, Fluff and Angst, Happy Ending, M/M, Mating Cycles/In Heat, Mutual Pining, Non-Traditional Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Omega Keith (Voltron), Omega Verse, Romantic Soulmates, Scenting, Soulmates, Soulmates Stopping Time
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-01
Updated: 2021-01-01
Packaged: 2021-03-10 17:02:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 17,201
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28250580
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/communikate/pseuds/communikate
Summary: “Then give me a reason to smile,” Keith challenges without the laughter leaving his tone.Reaching forward to pick a piece of waffle cone out of Keith’s hair, Lance lets his fingers brush down the side of Keith’s jaw. “I’ll give you a million reasons, cariño.”· · ───── ·𖥸· ───── · ·In a world where time stops for soulmates, Keith has felt the persistent passage of every year. Until the universe gives him everything he’s always been looking for in the smile of a blue-eyed alpha and the frozen world around them.
Relationships: Keith/Lance (Voltron)
Series: Oh my god, they were soulmates! [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2086863
Comments: 13
Kudos: 218
Collections: Klance Secret Santa





	But One Day the Time May Come

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Aurone](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aurone/gifts).



> I'm so happy to share my piece for the Klance Secret Santa 2020!!
> 
> Auronevardell, I hope you enjoy this piece!! (°◡°♡) I really like to try to incorporate all of the prompts that I'm given, so I hope that you enjoy reading this fic as much as I enjoyed writing it!
> 
> I want to give a big thank you to my beta, [Malevelynce](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Malevelynce/pseuds/Malevelynce), and a special thanks to [this wonderful post of soulmate au's](https://r-evolve-art.tumblr.com/post/144380748003/master-list-of-soulmate-aus) I found on tumblr that helped me find inspiration!

Everything is going horribly.

Between the still-drying coffee stain down the front of his shirt, missing the bus, and the paper he printed at the library last minute — the staples are only holding together 2/3rds of the pages, and with each step he takes, it’s crushed at the bottom of his bag — this morning is a careful lesson in disaster. And Keith knows that he looks like the epitome of one as he rushes through the last seconds of the crosswalk. Waving off the offending honks of cars ready to speed into the intersection, he jogs through the people and onto the main section of campus.

To add insult to injury, he even forgot to put on his scent blockers this morning, so he’s sure that the air around him practically reeks of his stress. It’s rolling off him in waves as he cuts through one of the buildings on the fastest route to the Diabazzal Center of Arts and Sciences. 

His phone vibrates in his pocket. Without looking, he knows that it’s the reminder to turn in this paper before the end of his next class. But Professor Sandoval is notorious for shutting and locking the doors as soon as the clock chimes.

And missing the class means a late paper and an automatic 30% deduction.

He’s a whirlwind of motion, speeding between people, past the doors of his shortcut through the business building, and out onto the last stretch of quad.

Gleaming with a newly fashioned glass facade that stands just beyond the stretch of paved walkway is the Center of Arts and Sciences. It was one of the last buildings on Altea University’s small campus to be renovated, and now it looks out of place compared to the colonial style featured on the rest of the buildings.

The quad that lines either side of the walkway is filled with bright green grass that stays unnaturally so throughout the year. Students are lounging around tables or seated on picnic blankets or just laying in the grass beneath the overcast sky. There are hundreds of people milling about during the midday on campus: buying food from the line of food trucks that park behind the main building or breathing in the fresh air after hours of studying in the library basement.

Which makes it all the stranger when everyone just stops.

The world around Keith freezes.

No one moves, and it takes him a minute to stutter to a standstill. Students are poised mid-step and birds have stopped in the air, feathers ruffled and wings bent in flight. Even the sun, peaking just beyond the barrier of clouds, has frozen in her journey.

Keith’s breath catches in his throat.

He’s only heard of this in storybooks and in dumb romantic comedy movies, because everyone loved to fantasize about the clandestine meeting of two soulmates.

How the world would stop moving for only them. How everything in the world would freeze for the moment it took them to meet, to learn to love, and to establish their bond as soulmates. In movies, it was always an instantaneous reaction: just the sight and scent of their matched pair would send the world spiraling back into place, because their love was so colossal and so monumental that the Earth had shifted the very moment they’d touched.

Keith has never expected time to stop for him.

In his childhood, there were days when he would kneel at his window and look up at the brightest star in the sky. Interlocking his fingers, he would pray that there might be someone who could love him within an instant. That wouldn’t leave him to fend for himself. That wouldn’t recoil at his spiced cinnamon and cloves scent — too brash and intense for an omega.

Someone that would stay.

But as he grew older, he realized how rare the actual phenomenon of instantaneous soulmates was. Soulmates happened every day, but no one truly fell in love in an instant.

Yet, time around him stands still.

Turning slowly on the ball of his foot, Keith looks behind him to see the boy he had just brushed past — a boy he hardly had the time to spare a glance at before — moving amongst the motionless students.

And wow, Keith is glad he has all the time in the world to look at the boy before him.

His smile is the first thing Keith notices, wide and jubilant and so natural on his features. With tanned skin, he looks like perfection standing in one of the only rays of light from beyond the clouds. He’s dressed casually with a green bomber jacket tossed over a white t-shirt and jeans. He runs a hand through his short brown locks as he glances around the quad for the only other person moving in the frozen sea of people.

Keith swears that his heart stops when their eyes meet.

He’s sucked fathoms below in the bottomless ocean of the boy’s eyes, crystal clear like the Carribean waters that Keith has only seen on TV. Those eyes widen slightly as they take in all of Keith.

Part of him wants to curl in on himself, as if that could hide his messy hair or the muted stain across the front of his shirt. But the other part that never believed that this would happen makes him straighten his back, because he’ll be damned before he’s ashamed of everything he’s become.

As if the motion of Keith standing up straight has shocked the boy out of his stupor, his soulmate jogs towards him. Weaving through people, the book bag jostles against the boy’s back and threatens to pull the bomber jacket right off his shoulders.

“Hi,” his soulmate breathes as he stands before Keith, a careful and respectful distance away that should be enough to avoid accidental scenting. But Keith knows that without his scent blockers, the smell of his mixed emotions is filtering into the air around them like smoke.

The lingering stress slowly drains out of his scent, leaching out the soured notes and leaving behind his natural crispness.

“Hi,” Keith exhales, echoing his soulmate and so unsure of what to say. He tilts his chin up to compensate for their minor difference in height. And wow, his soulmate is even more handsome up close.

There is a smattering of freckles across his cheeks, light and almost blending in with the deep golden color of his skin. A scar, muted and a touch pearlescent, cuts across the bottom of his chin, making him look even more roguish and cute — a playful kind of boy.

Keith’s fingers curl a little deeper into the strap of his bookbag, ready to run or fight if his soulmate does recoil at his scent. But it doesn’t seem to deter the boy as he takes a deep inhale. Keith swears that he catches those blue eyes rolling back for a second, before his soulmate takes a slight step forward and extends his hand in a polite wave.

“The name’s Lance.” There’s a cockiness beneath the boyish excitement of his smile.

Keith hates how his throat tightens at the respect Lance has shown him in these first few minutes. How he keeps his distance and doesn’t initiate or expect touch. Keith has known alphas and even betas that presume he’s apt to physical contact just because he’s an omega — like he’s someone to be tamed and coddled.

But Keith has never been a typical kind of omega.

With a shuddered inhale, Keith allows himself to draw in the muted tones of Lance’s scent, washed-out beneath his scent blockers. It’s filled with sea salt and the scent of the air right before the rain, all fresh earth and petrichor. But there’s a crisp edge, thunderstorms and the ocean at high tide, that denotes Lance as an alpha. And yet, his scent isn’t domineering, rather it’s calming in a way that Keith never realized an alpha’s could be.

“Keith. It’s nice to meet you.” Keith extends his hand for a handshake, watching the way stifled delight flashes across Lance’s features.

He’s never been the type to reach for someone, to open himself up to touch — especially since he presented as an omega among the crowded bedrooms at St Patrick’s Orphanage.

But the world stopped for them, and Keith realizes that he wants to reach out, to try and be open for the first time in his life.

Even with Shiro, it was like prying open an oyster without a knife; instead of forcing it, his brother had waited until Keith opened on his own. It had taken years, constant support, and unwavering belief, but Shiro never made it seem like a chore.

And yet, maybe this is the power of soulmates.

Lance accepts the handshake, grip warm beneath the fingerless gloves Keith wears. The alpha’s fingers curl carefully to avoid the delicate scent gland on Keith’s wrist, even though it’s already covered by the strap of his gloves. Keith finds that he respects the boy more for that.

“It’s nice to meet you too.” There’s a giddiness to Lance’s voice that echoes throughout the rest of his body. There’s an incessant tapping of his feet and an almost painful width to his smile.

Keith glances at the people around them, waiting for them to all shudder back into motion, for this peaceful little moment between him and Lance to end — and send him running to turn in his paper and attend Professor Sandoval’s class.

“So,” Lance drawls, rocking back on his heels and smiling widely at Keith, “want to get ice cream or something?”

“You mean after all this,” Keith waves a hand at the crowd as if it’ll spur them all into motion, “starts up again?”

Lance pauses for a moment, regarding Keith with the tilt of his head. “What do you mean?”

“The world isn’t supposed to be frozen for this long.”

The alpha gives him an uneven smile, almost smirking in a way that hides the sudden flash of hurt in his eyes. “Maybe in movies, Keith.”

“What?” It comes out harsher than Keith means it to, a hiss of a thing, but he can feel his hackles rising in defense.

Lance nonchalantly shrugs — as if time stopping is some common occurrence. “My cousin was actually stopped for seven months with her soulmate before time finally started up again. It all really depends, ya know?” He says it like it’s common knowledge. An edge of excitement, of that boyish nature Keith has seen tamped beneath Lance’s skin, peaks out as he leans forward and says, “Legends say that soulmates stop time in order to fall in love without the complications of the world around them, and that time only starts again when they both love each other unconditionally.”

Keith nods stiffly, ignoring the whispers in the back of his mind that say they’ll be stuck in this frozen time forever, because he’s never been someone who’s easy to love.

“So, about that ice cream?” Lance smiles that blinding grin, and Keith can’t help but agree.

· · ───── ·𖥸· ───── · ·

After walking past his dorm so that Keith can shrug on a dry, unstained t-shirt and run a brush through his hair, they walk through campus and towards the little ice cream parlor on 5th and Summerton street.

He feels a little underdressed. He’s wearing his favorite ripped jeans and a black band tee. The sleeves are cut off and the holes brush the bottom of his ribs. His gloves feel a little tighter around his wrists as if he was hoping to hold in all of the scent that tumbled from the glands there.

Even though Lance is still wearing that casual bomber jacket and slim-fitting jeans, Keith feels like maybe he should’ve dressed up more. But Lance smiled when Keith finally emerged from his dorm room, and that was enough.

“What’s your major?” Lance asks as he laces his fingers together behind his head. Each step is looping and casual as if he’s slowing down his pace to walk beside Keith.

The conversation has consisted of minor questions like it’s orientation week again, where everyone is fighting for friends but they only have the same four questions to ask. Even though it’s been three years since orientation, the questions feel tired and trite.

“Social work. You?” Keith glances out of the corner of his eye and gauges Lance’s reaction.

“Marine biology! I’m a junior so I’m finally starting to focus on my specific concentration now, but it’s been really interesting — exhausting, but interesting.” Lance’s smile is a wry thing, pulled tight from too many all nighters and the endless stream of assignments. “What about you? What’re you hoping to do with social work?”

Keith digs his hands into his pockets and hates how his scent sours slightly. Thankfully, the cool press of the fresh scent blockers on his neck curbs the minor fluctuation. “I’m studying to help foster kids.” And before Lance can ask about his motivations, Keith asks, “What are you planning on doing in marine biology?”

“I’m not sure yet. My mom says that I was practically born in the ocean, so I’m sure that I’ll enjoy whatever I end up doing,” Lance chuckles as a slight flush colors his cheeks. “Maybe something in conservation or research?”

Keith hums as a response, unsure how to keep up the conversation without asking more awkward questions.

They walk in the center of the street, between cars and bikers, because why not enjoy the fact that the world around them has stopped? Lance keeps glancing in the windows of cars or drawing silly faces in the grime on the back windshields. Keith can’t help his small smile as he watches.

“It’s weird to see the world like this,” Lance mumbles under his breath, and Keith’s not sure he was meant to hear.

He answers anyway, “Makes it strangely peaceful.”

Lance nods before hopping up on the sidewalk and motioning to the front door of the ice cream parlor. He swings the door open and gestures for Keith to enter first, in a way that seems both playful and showy.

The glass case is the first thing Keith sees when he walks in, large and frosted at the edges. It holds dozens of homemade ice cream flavors. A young worker is leaning into the case with a scoop of vanilla dangling from the spoon. It’s a quaint shop with little wooden tables lining the side of the store and a few patrons taking up seats.

Without another thought, Keith hops over the counter and pulls out two dishes. “What do you want?”

Lance pauses and glances at the menu. “I’m not sure. Maybe chocolate?”

“That’s basic,” Keith jeers lightheartedly, raising an eyebrow at Lance.

“Well, what were you going to get?”

“Pistachio.”

Keith pulls an ice cream scooper from the container on the counter and begins piling chocolate into the dish.

“Hey Keith.”

He hums in response, not looking up as he squeezes another scoop into the packed cup. With the last spoonful dangling off the edge of the scooper, Lance calls his attention once again. He glances up only to have Lance smear whipped cream onto the tip of his nose.

Lance can’t hide his giggles behind the canister of whipped cream, no matter how hard he tries.

Keith wipes the back of his hand across the ridge of his nose and points at Lance. “Don’t start stuff you can’t finish, Lance.” He can’t keep the humor out of his voice, and it must be obvious to Lance.

“Okay,” the alpha says, but the playful nature bleeds through. The next second, Lance is reaching forward and pulling the display of waffle cones to his chest. Keith ducks behind the glass case and cradles the slowly melting scoop of chocolate.

Shrapnel of cone splatters against the floor as Lance’s voice echoes like music around the store.

“Oh no! I was trying to hit Keith,” Lance cries out as the chocolate dipped cone shatters against the front of one of the customers. Before he can say anything else, he sputters as chocolate ice cream splatters across his face.

“You mean like that?” Keith spins the ice cream scooper in his hands. He can’t hide the chuckle under his breath as Lance wipes away the ice cream onto sticky fingers.

Lance pops a chocolate covered finger into his mouth and sighs. “Oh, yeah. I definitely want a cone of chocolate.”

It’s all so ridiculous. That this boy was the person Keith has been praying for for so long, beneath the first star he saw every night as a kid. That time stopped for them. That they are here and somehow it’s the easiest new friend that Keith has ever made.

He tips his head back, and he laughs. Clutching at his stomach and leaning against the counter, Keith laughs until tears form at the corners of his eyes. It’s so refreshing. So light hearted and warm.

Lance gives him that uneven smirk, propping his hip against the counter and licking the chocolate from another finger. “That’s the first time I’ve seen you really smile since we met each other. You should do it more often.”

“Then give me a reason to smile,” Keith challenges without the laughter leaving his tone.

Reaching forward to pick a piece of waffle cone out of Keith’s hair, Lance lets his fingers brush down the side of Keith’s jaw. “I’ll give you a million reasons, cariño.”

· · ───── ·𖥸· ───── · ·

After they finally scoop their ice cream, they sit out on the curb and look up at the sun barely peeking past the clouds — still unmoving in the hours that have passed.

Their ice cream drips down their cones and threatens to turn their hands even stickier.

But there’s a smile on Keith’s face that he can’t wipe off.

“I never thought this would feel so much like a dream,” Keith whispers, eyes tracing the shapes in the clouds and the forms of frozen people across the street. “Like I know that everything we’ve done disappears when time starts again. I just never thought…” his words drift off like they’re caught on a breeze that has stopped blowing.

“My parents always told me and my siblings how magical it all was for them. How it felt like no time at all. How even within moments of meeting each other they knew they were meant to be.” Lance bends his legs and drapes his arms over his knees. His ice cream drips onto the gravel at their feet as his gaze turns to Keith. There’s a fondness to his expression. “I’ve been waiting to meet you for as long as I can remember.”

Keith hates how he feels the need to apologize, so he just nods instead.

He finishes off the last of his ice cream and brushes his hands off on his pants. “How many siblings do you have?” The question feels awkward leaving his mouth; it’s off kilter from the rest of the conversation, a clear diversion from the previous topic that’s said without any finesse — but thankfully Lance doesn’t seem to mind.

“Four. I’m the youngest with two older sisters and two older brothers. Somehow I’m the only alpha.” He scratches at the back of his neck, a bashful motion that contradicts everything Keith has known about alphas.

“Yeah?” Keith presses for more, curling towards Lance on the edge of the sidewalk.

There’s something magnetic between them. Maybe it’s the muted scent that Keith just wants to inhale. To bury himself in Lance’s neck and understand what the alpha smells like without scent blockers. But he’s so startled by the instantaneous desire, that he pulls back.

He’s never been a typical omega — soft and caring and gentle — and he won’t change everything about himself just because an alpha stumbled into his life.

“Yeah,” Lance affirms and continues the conversation like it’s easy for him to talk about all of this personal stuff. “My parents were really surprised when I presented. I mean, I don’t look like the typical alpha.” He laughs as he motions to himself, but there is a sharp flick of his wrist and an edge to his joke.

Keith’s not sure what to say, so they sit in silence for a moment as Lance’s shoulders fall a little farther with each breath. His eyes drop to the gravel that gathers beneath their feet rather than chance meeting Keith’s gaze.

But just before Lance can stumble into more talk about his family, Keith says, “It’s not like I look like the typical omega either.”

Lance’s gaze darts up, eyes wide as they seem to analyze Keith’s features. “What? You’re beautiful,” he whispers like it was torn from his chest.

“I didn’t say that because I was fishing for compliments,” Keith grumbles as a burning blush climbs up the back of his neck and sears the tips of his ears. “I just get where you’re coming from, you know?”

Lance nods, but there’s this glint to his eyes that Keith can’t place — a type of tenderness maybe? Something that’s been growing in these small moments together.

Clearing his throat, Lance shakes his head and asks just as out of the blue as Keith had, “So what about your family?”

Keith’s gaze drops to the gravel that has gathered in the small gutter at their feet. He drags his toe through it, adding noise to their silent slice of reality. “I, uh, come from a very nontraditional home. My mom and pop were both alphas, and —”

“It’s okay.” Lance gives him a gentle smile, hand reaching out to gently brush against Keith’s forearm before pulling back to his side. “My family is also nontraditional, so you don’t need to worry about any prejudices or anything.” There’s a real encouragement to Lance’s tone, and it makes the rest of the truth a little easier for Keith to say.

“ — and they weren’t soulmates.”

Keith glances up and watches Lance’s reaction from beneath the cover of his bangs. There’s unmuted shock with the widening of his eyes and the sudden jump of his eyebrows. Then several emotions flash across Lance’s expression before Keith can name them.

“Oh,” Lance breathes, “do you mind me asking why?”

Keith leans back on his hands, staring up at the frozen clouds rather than the gravel at his feet. “My pop’s soulmate had died not long after they met. And years later, he met my mom. She’d never found her soulmate. When I was little I asked her why she married my pop, and she said that she got tired of looking for someone who might never come — especially when she had a wonderful man already beside her.”

Silence settles between them for a minute, but Keith doesn’t push. He knows that his family was built in unusual circumstances. Kids would always tell him that he was cursed, that he would never get a soulmate because his parents had sinned by creating him.

But here he was. The world was stopped before him, and a caring, considerate, handsome alpha was sitting at his side.

This didn’t feel like a curse at all.

“I—” the words are constricted as they whistle out of Lance’s lips, “— I understand if you don’t want to do this, or — or if you already have someone else.”

Keith’s eyes jump to Lance, catching a flicker of agony at the edges of his expression before it’s carefully hidden behind a pained smile. “What?” Keith breathes.

“If you don’t believe in soulmates or if you’re seeing someone, I understand.” Lance’s gaze drops to the knees of his pants, threadbare and beginning to fray. He picks at the seam as if looking for something to do with his hands. “We’ll find a way out of this if that’s what —” 

“I want to be here with you,” Keith declares, voice steady and loud amongst the silence of their frozen world. Lance’s gaze slowly lifts to meet Keith’s. “I don’t have anyone else. And — and I’ve also been waiting to meet you.”

The words catch in his throat, thick like syrup and snagging on barbs of his childhood — of all of the nights spent at the window with prayers whispered on his lips.

Lance reaches out, palm up and hand poised between them, asking for permission and offering a gentle embrace. Keith keeps his gaze fixed on the deep lines in Lance’s palm as his fingers trail against the soft skin. His fingertips feel like they’re conducting electricity with every second against Lance’s hand. Their fingers slowly intertwine.

They lean closer together, close enough to catch the honeyed undertones of Keith’s happiness or the warm sunshine of Lance’s delight.

“I’m glad,” Lance whispers between them like it’s a secret, even though the entire world has stopped around them.

“Yeah?”

“I wasn’t sure if I could’ve watched you walk into someone else’s arms after all of this.” Lance’s voice is thick and his scent sours with a touch of jealousy, of seaweed and winter storms. “If that was what you wanted, I would’ve done it. But I know it would’ve killed me to let you go.”

Keith gasps, and his heart jumps in his chest. The air stills in his lungs. Tilting his chin up, Keith meets Lance’s eyes and realizes suddenly that they’re close enough to kiss. His words are exhaled over Lance’s lips, “But we hardly even know each other.”

“I know.” Lance’s grip tightens around Keith’s hand. “It’s a little scary.”

Keith thinks of how he wants to close the distance between them and taste Lance’s lips. Or how he wants to press his nose into the curve of Lance’s neck and inhale the scent of the ocean, of alpha, of Lance. Or how it’s been less than a day, and Keith is already desperate to know this person before him.

It’s a terrifying magnitude of attraction.

“Yeah. I’ve never felt like this about anyone before.” Keith’s eyes drop to Lance’s lips, and he knows that he’s been caught staring.

“I want to get to know you, Keith.” Lance’s other hand brushes against his cheek with the back of his fingers. They’re gentle as they trace the length of the scar that bisects Keith’s cheek. “I want to know you past all of _this_.”

Keith nods into Lance’s palm, before slowly pulling himself back from the alpha’s proximity. It’s like breathing fresh air. The world suddenly solidifies around him and he can focus on things that aren’t just Lance. Keith’s never felt like this before, and when he steps back to examine the weight of his emotions, the strength is intimidating.

“I want that too,” Keith exhales.

“I don’t want to love you just because you’re my soulmate,” Lance speaks like it’s such a certainty that he’ll come to love Keith — that it’s a fact as true as the world stopping around them, and the conviction with which he says it makes Keith nod in agreement.

Their gazes drift back to the sky and the frozen clouds. In the quiet, they enjoy the gentle warmth of the half-hidden sun. It’s a comfortable silence, something that revels in the magnetic pull between them.

“So,” Lance hums, “what do you want to do?”

Keith shrugs in response. “I don’t know. I’ve never really been on a date before.”

More silence follows his statement, but it takes him a moment to realize that it’s not the same comfortable quiet that had just been between them. Looking over his shoulder, Keith catches Lance’s slack-jawed expression.

“What?”

“You’ve never been on a date before?” Lance’s voice is incredulous.

Keith sits up straight and crosses his arms over his chest. “So? Some people would find it romantic to wait for their soulmate.” He narrows his gaze and is about to say more, when a flush commandeers Lance’s features.

“I just —” Lance clears his throat. “If you haven’t been on a date before, it might be nice to do all of the classic date stuff. You know, like movies and fancy dinners and a moonlit walk on the beach.” Lance glances at the unmoving sun in the sky, before shrugging. “You know, date stuff?”

The defensiveness fades from Keith’s shoulders as he relaxes back against the sidewalk. “That sounds nice,” he admits seconds before Lance tugs him to his feet, into the road, and towards his apartment.

Lance speaks a mile per minute about all of the wonderful dates they can have, and Keith can’t help but smile.

· · ───── ·𖥸· ───── · ·

Lance shares an off-campus apartment with his beta best friend, Hunk. It’s nestled a couple streets off campus and towards a more dangerous part of town, but it’s still quaint and priced affordably for students. It’s a small two-bedroom with stained carpet floors and a couch that looks like it’s seen too many college parties.

But it’s warm and lived in — so different from Keith’s clinical and undecorated dorm room.

The whole apartment smells so much like Lance. Of course, Keith can detect the beta’s scent, mellow and warm like browned butter and fresh baked bread, but it’s Lance’s scent that has marked the home as territory.

Thankfully, it doesn’t set Keith on edge.

Whenever he’s visited an alpha’s dorm room for studying or group projects, he has recoiled at the scent of their home. It was always so strong and domineering, claiming what is theirs and ready to wage war at the slightest offense. It’s everything he’s hated about alpha’s wrapped into a single experience.

But Lance’s scent is welcoming.

Maybe it’s because Lance is his soulmate, or maybe that’s just the way Lance is.

“Welcome to my humble abode,” Lance jokes as he motions around the apartment. Without hesitation, he quickly crosses the room and gathers up a couple of half-full, flat soda cans and throws them out. “Sorry that it’s a mess. Hunk and I weren’t really expecting guests, you know?”

Keith shrugs with one shoulder with all the nonchalance he feels. He’s enjoying the gentle scent of the apartment far more than he cares about a couple of soda cans and hoodies draped along the back of the couch.

He’s toeing off his shoes when Lance stops him. “You don’t have to do that. I know it’s a mess in here, and —”

“I don’t mind.” Keith follows Lance’s frantic path through the apartment, padding into the kitchen which overlooks the living room. Lance is busy pulling out popcorn and other movie-worthy snacks. “What’re you thinking of watching?” he asks as he pops a cheeto into his mouth behind Lance’s back.

“What about something scary?” There’s a mischievous glint to the alpha’s eyes as he throws a bag of popcorn into the microwave. 

With the shrug of his shoulders, Keith agrees.

Thirty minutes later, they’re sitting on either edge of the couch, but since it’s a small love seat rather than a traditional 3-seat sofa, their knees are already pressed together. Keith can feel the warmth of Lance’s skin through his tight jeans. The popcorn is propped between them while the other snacks are scattered across the coffee table. They’ve already lost several kernels to the depths of the couch.

Both of Lance’s hands grip Keith’s forearm, and with each jump, he threatens to dump all of the popcorn to the floor. He curls towards Keith as he draws one knee up to his chest. “What the fuck? What the fuck? Did she just die?” Lance has turned his attention to Keith, voice steadily rising in volume. “Why aren’t you freaking out, Keith? She was literally decapitated!”

Keith can’t hide his chuckle as he gazes away from the movie. “I mean, it was a little obvious that she was going to die. Why else would they show that scene of them cutting up so many walnuts?”

“But — but — but not like _that!_ ” Lance has dislodged a hand from Keith’s forearm and is pointing at the screen.

It’s a heart wrenching scene that shows the mother running from the house, only to find her daughter’s headless body in the back of the car.

Keith’s never been one to scare easily with horror movies, even with these new ones that focus on the physiological more than the blood and gore. But all of them play by the same rules of plot structure. It all seems so fake and predictable with foreshadowing he can clearly pick out.

It’s life that scares him more.

Pulling his arm out from Lance’s death grip, Keith slings it over the alpha’s shoulder. “Don’t worry, I’ll protect you.” He holds his breath in anticipation. Even though Lance has been the most excitable and laidback boy Keith has ever met, he’s still an alpha.

Is he emasculating Lance by offering to protect him?

Keith’s arm freezes around Lance’s shoulder, fingers catching on the sleeve of his bomber jacket. But before he can pull away, Lance curls into his side. His head is propped close enough to Keith’s scent blockers that he can probably smell the diluted peppermint of the strips and the spiced scent of his amusement beneath.

“This wasn’t supposed to happen,” Lance grumbles as he buries his head into his hands — which is either to avoid looking at Keith or the scene in front of them.

“Were you trying to scare me so you could show me that you were a big, strong alpha?” Keith jeers, watching as Lance’s head trembles from the laughter rumbling in Keith’s chest.

“No,” Lance drawls, muffled against his hands.

“It’s okay if you were,” Keith says softly, tone delicate. He reaches his free hand up to slowly peel back Lance’s fingers so he can see the alpha’s face: blush sits high on his cheeks and his bottom lip is pinched between his teeth.

“No, it’s not.” Lance tears his hands away from his face. He moves the popcorn bowl into Keith’s lap so he can draw up his other leg and bury his face in his knees. “I know I’m probably not what you expect for an alpha, and I just wanted to — I don’t know — prove to you that I could still protect you. God, that sounds so stupid out loud.”

Keith’s breath has caught in his chest. With each second between them, there’s a tightening to his chest, like someone is slowly squeezing all of his ribs together.

He pulls his arm off Lance’s shoulders, and ignores the soft, involuntary chirp Lance gives in response. But Keith focuses on pausing the movie before he can give his full attention to Lance.

Keith places the popcorn on the coffee table and turns to face his soulmate. “Lance, what do you look for in a partner?”

That question shocks Lance out of his curled position. He parts his lips as if ready to ask questions or avoid the question all together, but a second passes as Lance slowly unfurls. His feet tap against the floor and his hands pull at the loosened threads of his jeans.

“Someone who’s funny and smart and beautiful.” His eyes flick up to Keith’s and linger on the planes of his face before dropping back down to his lap. “Someone who has my back without having to be asked. Someone who sees _me_ , you know.”

Keith nods and watches as Lance sits up straight and turns his gaze to meet Keith’s.

Before Keith can say anything else, Lance asks, “What about you? What do you look for?”

“Me? I’ve — I’ve never really thought about it before.” Keith flushes as the question is turned on him. He bites at the inside of his cheek in thought. “Probably someone who loves me. Someone who stays.”

Lance reaches out towards Keith’s hand. Like he has with every moment since they met on the quad, he moves slowly enough that so Keith can pull away if he wanted to. But Keith doesn’t want to. He grabs Lance’s hand before the alpha can finish the movement.

“Neither of us is looking for things that are stereotypically alpha or omega,” Keith squeezes Lance’s hand as he continues, hoping that his words resonate, “so you don’t have to be anything other than yourself.

“If we’re soulmates, aren’t we meant for eachother as we are?” Lance asks as he brings his other hand up to engulf Keith’s.

“Yeah,” Keith exhales, and there’s something growing between them — something that’s outside of this natural magnetism. “So, do you want to watch something else?”

Lance chuckles and says, “Yes, please.”

They put on a romantic comedy instead of whatever horror movie they were watching. It’s upbeat and light, filled with bad jokes and a gorgeous male lead that finds too many reasons to take his shirt off.

Keith allows himself to lean into Lance’s space. Their hands are still intertwined, a warmth and comforting weight that Keith relishes in.

As the credits of the movie roll past, Keith yawns. “What time do you think it is?” It’s still mid-day outside with the sun permanently peaking beyond the clouds and the birds caught in flight. But exhaustion weighs heavily on Keith’s eyelids, making him sink deeper into Lance’s couch.

The movie’s credits play quietly in the background.

“You can sleep here if you want.” Lance’s voice is soft, a gentle offering, and Keith wants to accept.

He wants to curl up on Lance’s couch where the smell of him has saturated the fabric, all sea salt and fresh earth. Wants to curl into the comfort of it and the sense of safety it provides. To allow himself to want.

But instead, he stands up from the couch and stretches. “I think I should probably head home.” He gives Lance a wry smile as he searches for the disappointment in the alpha’s gaze. There’s only acceptance beyond the surface of those blue irises.

“Should I walk you home?”

“Sure,” Keith breathes.

In moments, they have shoved their shoes on and walked out the door. The sun is warm and comforting when they stroll through patches of sunlight. Between the sway of their hands, Lance’s fingers brush the back of Keith’s hand, and even through the leather of his gloves, it feels like a jolt of electricity. Without looking up to meet the alpha’s gaze, Keith intertwines their fingers.

They don’t say anything during the short walk to Keith’s dorm. But they don’t need to.

Lance leans against the wall beside Keith’s door. His keys are left dangling in the lock as Keith turns to face the alpha. Lance brings their intertwined hands to his lips and places a soft kiss against Keith’s covered knuckles.

“When can I see you again?”

“Tomorrow,” Keith chuckles at the alpha’s eagerness, but he can’t fight down the excitement bubbling in his own lungs.

Lance’s lips linger against Keith’s hand, and he watches as Lance’s nostrils flare, drawing in his own scent. A pleasured tingle traipses up Keith’s spine at the sight. “What time?”

“The clock’s aren’t exactly working right now, Lance,” Keith teases, and the lighthearted tone feels strange on his tongue. He’s never felt like this before, and he had no idea if it’s the power of soulmates or just Lance.

The alpha pulls his hand from Keith’s so that he can brush a stray strand of hair behind his ear. Lance’s fingers linger, tracing a path of heat along Keith’s jaw. “How about you just come over to my apartment when you wake up? I’ll make pancakes or something.”

Keith nods against Lance’s palm. “Okay.”

“Okay. Bye, cariño.” Lance leans forward and presses a gentle kiss to the top of Keith’s forehead.

Butterflies take flight in Keith’s stomach at the gentle touch.

“Bye,” Keith whispers as he watches Lance disappear into the stairwell. With a dreamy sigh, he pushes open his door and flops onto the bed with a grunt.

All day he’s felt like one of those girls from a cheesy romantic comedy — always sighing and moon-eyed and always talking about how hard it is to sleep. But Keith can’t fault them now as he pulls off his t-shirt and gloves and buries his face into the lingering notes of Lance’s scent to fall asleep.

· · ───── ·𖥸· ───── · ·

Four days in, and Keith still isn’t accustomed to Lance’s steady presence by his side. The alpha is full of barely-contained energy, excited and jubilant and always ready to see what’s next. And somehow Keith has let it slip that he has never been to the beach.

“You’ve never been to the beach? Ever?” Lance leans forward in his seat as a spoonful of mashed potatoes slips off the edge of the utensil and splatters on his plate. His jaw has dropped so dramatically that Keith catches the glint of a silver filling on his back molars.

“Nah, no one’s ever had the chance to take me.” Keith doesn’t elaborate that the orphanage didn’t have the money for trips like that and after the Shiroganes took him in, they hadn’t gotten the chance between Shiro’s rehabilitation and college. 

Without another word, Lance jumps to his feet and grabs for Keith’s hand.

They’re jogging out of the dinning hall and through the quad before Keith can ask, “Where are we going?”

“To the beach!” Lance turns back just enough to gaze at Keith and send him that wide, brilliant smile.

“We’re like four hours from the beach,” Keith laughs as they swerve between the frozen students scattered along the quad, “and we don’t have a car.”

The look Lance gives him is mischievous, “Well, what better time is there?”

· · ───── ·𖥸· ───── · ·

Lance won’t stop glancing over at Keith, eyes still a little wide and that smile in a half-formed state. Keith can’t take his eyes off the road, because he’s slowly driving around the cars stopped in the middle of the highway. But he catches Lance’s lingering gaze anyway.

“Will you stop looking at me like that?” His tone doesn’t cut the way he wants it too. He feels too soft around Lance, like it has only taken four days for this boy to bypass all of his walls and hardened edges.

“I’m just impressed.”

Keith’s lips curl in a pout as he skips to the next track on the CD. It’s some old 90’s rock mixtape with songs that Keith only faintly recognizes. “It’s nothing to be impressed by.”

“I just didn’t know I was dating a seasoned criminal.” The joke in Lance’s tone is obvious, but Keith can’t fight his wince at the title. “I mean, it took you like three minutes to hot wire this car? I’m not going to lie, but it —”

Lance cuts himself off, and Keith knows that it’s due to the expression on his features or the new acrid edge of his scent. He’s unsure what he looks like, but he can tell from the white-knuckle grip on the steering wheel that it’s probably not nice — nothing like a proper omega.

In the small car, it’s clear that his scent has soured, a biting bitter tang that makes the cinnamon notes of his scent burn and smoke.

“Hey,” Lance’s voice is tender as he reaches across the distance to brush delicate fingers across Keith’s bare forearm, “I didn’t mean anything by it.”

Keith nods stiffly and relaxes under Lance’s gentle touch. But his jaw doesn’t unclench and neither do his fingers.

“Do you want to talk about it?” Lance asks, and it truly sounds like a question. Not one of those posed by his counselors and teachers, one that always expected an answer or explanation.

“I just —” Keith fumbles for the words, a polite way to tell Lance that he absolutely doesn’t want to talk about it. He inhales deeply to steady himself, but rather than smelling the overwhelming smell of his own rotted scent, he smells Lance: it’s freshness and everything they’re driving towards, the open sky and the roaring waves and all of the things Keith has only seen on television. His shoulders relax, his lips part, and everything tumbles out, “It was actually how I met my foster brother. I was wandering around the parking lot at the mall because it was the only thing within walking distance of the home. A lot of us hung out there, but I never went inside. It wasn’t like I had any money to spend anyway. So I would just wander around and do stupid shit.”

Lance chuckles like he understands, like wandering around a doing stupid shit is a staple of teenage boyhood. That they are all just meant to bum cigarettes off strangers or see who could throw the rocks the farthest or attempt to toss an old pair of Sister Margareta’s shoes onto the telephone wires.

Keith’s fingers loosen against the steering wheel. “And one day, I saw this car. To be honest, it wasn’t even that nice of a car, but Shiro will tell you otherwise.” He glances over at Lance and gives him a wry smile. “I knew Shiro since he went to the high school that my middle school fed into. And, of course, he was the most popular guy in school. The quarterback that managed to take them to nationals for two years in a row, the nicest beta to ever walk the hallways, and —” Keith sighs and stops the car in the middle of two lanes. With his foot pressed harshly on the brake, Keith tips his head back and looks out of the sunroof. “— and I was so jealous. He seemed to have it all, and I —” Keith swallows back the tears, the clawing emptiness that hasn’t left his chest since his father’s death, “— I had nothing.”

Lance’s fingers press a little more assuredly into Keith’s forearm, a comforting grip that holds none of the controlling alpha stereotype.

Keith turns his gaze to face him, letting his eyes roam the now familiar planes of Lance’s face — tracing the pattern of faint freckles on his cheeks. Biting back a rueful grin Keith says, “So I stole his car.”

“You did not!” Lance gasps and squeezes Keith’s arm before dropping his hands to the console and leaning closer to Keith. His eyes glitter like they’re talking about some highschool gossip, and it somehow makes this all feel a little lighter.

He can’t stop his chuckle as he nods and continues. “I didn’t even have my license.”

“Wait, wait, wait.” Lance waves his hands in front of him, barely containing a smile. “So you didn’t have your driver’s license, but you knew how to hotwire a car?”

Keith merely shrugs in response, before continuing, “It’s not like I made it very far. The cops pulled me over after I ran a red light.”

Lance hisses on an inhale.

“Yeah, they dragged me down to the station, and I was honestly prepared for the Shiroganes to press charges. But Shiro came waltzing into the police station, and the second he saw me, he started laughing.” Keith can’t help his chagrin smile, remembering the way that Shiro had grasped at his stomach with both hands and wiped away tears of laughter. Mr. and Mrs. Shirogane hadn’t thought the whole thing was as funny as Shiro did, but they treated him with a respect he didn’t deserve. “They let me off the hook without pressing charges. But the nuns at St. Patrick’s didn’t really feel the same.”

He can still remember the searing heat down the backs of his hands, the skin splitting under the force of the ruler.

“The next day when I came into school with bandages around my hands, Shiro actually came to talk to me. When he saw the wounds, I swear that I’ve never seen him more angry, and somehow within 48 hours, I was fostering at the Shirogane household.” His smile was warm as he analyzed Lance’s expression for any hint of displeasure.

With a telegraphed movement, Lance slowly reached out and took Keith’s hand off the wheel. 

“Is it okay if I take this off?” Lance says softly as he pulls at the fraying fingertip of Keith’s glove.

Keith can’t find it in himself to speak, so he just nods.

Lance slides his fingers up the length of Keith’s palm, touch delicate but firm enough that Keith can feel it through the leather. He slowly takes hold of the velcro edge of the band and pulls it away. The glove comes sliding off Keith’s hand, exposing his scent gland and the thin sheen of oil that had been trapped beneath the leather.

The scent of him intensifies in the small confines of the car.

It’s warmed and tender, something closer to a traditional omega’s scent. And the alpha’s shoulders rise with a steady inhalation. His grip tightens slightly from whatever he can smell in Keith’s scent, and a satisfied pleasure colors Lance’s in response.

Lance slowly turns Keith’s hand so that his palm is facing downward and the faint scars from all of his punishments glow pearlescent in the muted sunlight of their frozen time.

Leaning forward, Lance pauses with his lips just above the tender skin of Keith’s hand.

Keith’s breath catches in his throat as a feeling too big for his chest expands beneath his ribs. He nods softly, and Lance presses his lips to the faint scars across Keith’s skin. Each touch sends electricity zinging up his nerves. It’s fire and chemistry. Something so ordinary and yet awe-inspiring, like a supernova or the creation of a star or the constant expansion of the cosmos.

He’s bound to Lance’s gravity, to each kiss he lays upon his skin. To the way his fingers or lips never wander too far or try to seek out his scent gland. It’s delicate and loving and worshipful, and Keith can feel tears burn at the back of his eyes.

“I’m so glad that you’ve found people that love and cherish you, Keith.” Lance speaks against his skin, lips barely brushing with each word. “You deserve it, and I hope that one day, I can be one of those people that hold you dear.”

Keith nods, and the moment between them passes.

Lance slides Keith’s glove back on, and Keith turns his attention back to the road and towards the beach. He focuses on weaving between cars, but his right hand burns beneath the leather of his fingerless gloves.

“Thank you,” Keith whispers. By the gentle and now achingly-familiar touch of Lance’s hand on his forearm, Keith knows that Lance has heard and understood.

With a faint smile on his lips, Keith turns up the music and speeds as fast as he can down open stretches of highway.

· · ───── ·𖥸· ───── · ·

They roll the windows down, and Keith can smell it in the air when they’re close. It reminds him so much of Lance that the words stumble right off his tongue, “It smells like you.”

Lance’s gaze snaps to him in a second, cheeks tinged pink and lips parting. “What?”

“Nothing.” Keith clears his throat and feigns attention on the road before them, even though it’s void of cars.

“No, no. You said something.” There’s a playfulness to Lance’s tone that makes Keith smile. “Come on, tell me what you said, Keith. Cariño, please,” Lance drawls, pressing into the distance between them.

Keith huffs and hunches in on himself while he mumbles, “I said it smells like you.”

“Oh,” Lance breathes, eyes wide and expression carefully blank.

“It’s nice.”

Lance hums, slumping back in his seat and covering the bottom half of his face with one hand. The flush hasn’t left his features, and Keith relishes in that.

It’s only when he’s pulling into an illegal parking spot right in front of the entrance to the boardwalk that Lance mumbles, “You smell like home.”

“What?” Keith fumbles and the car suddenly stops, making them both jolt against their seatbelts.

Lance turns his gaze to meet those crystal blue eyes. “You smell like home. Especially during the holidays. Like warm spices and crackling fire. It— it’s nice.”

Keith puts the car into park and fumbles with his seatbelt before going still. “No one’s ever said that about me before. People have always said that I don’t smell enough like an omega.”

“Just because you don't smell like a walking dessert bar doesn’t mean you don’t smell like an omega,” Lance huffs and that cute flush has a tinge of irritation in it instead. “You, uh,” he pauses when he sees the intense look on Keith’s face. “Sorry, I shouldn’t have said anything.”

“No,” Keith breathes, “you can keep going.”

Lance scratches at the back of his neck and reaches for Keith’s hand. It seems like the touch is an anchor for him as he speaks, “You don’t smell sickly sweet, but there’s a warmth and a tenderness to your scent that’s undeniable.”

Keith can feel his scent shift, turning honeyed and sweet at Lance’s compliments and warmed with his own affection for the alpha.

“And now,” Lance’s smile is wide and almost hungry, “your scent is so sweet. Maybe they were all assholes so they never got to see how nice you smell when you’re happy.” There’s a possessive hint to Lance’s scent, like crisp wind and too much salt.

And somehow it makes Keith’s desire for the alpha all that more potent. For his alpha.

Keith pulls his hand gently out of Lance’s grasp. “Alright, casanova. Let’s go to the beach.”

· · ───── ·𖥸· ───── · ·

The weight of the bag on his shoulder is steadying as they march to the edge of the boardwalk and to a set of stairs that lead down to the beach. The bag is full of supplies they grabbed from a nearby shop, along with the red swim trunks that settle a little too low on Keith’s hips.

Keith pauses atop the stairs and looks out at the sight before him.

The water stretches on and on, meeting the horizon. It seems endless, even more so than anything he’s seen in movies. The sun glints against the tallest waves and the seafoam pulling back from the shore.

He’s always imaged the beach to be a loud place, of crashing waves and rushing winds. But now, with time frozen around them, it’s utterly silent.

The sand is warm beneath his feet, firm and unstable at the same time.

“It’s beautiful,” Keith breathes as he follows Lance through the small groups of tourists on the beach. It’s a weekday too late in the season for it to be sufficiently busy, so they’re able to settle right by the water’s edge — where the sand is still soft rather than hard packed.

The incoming wave is half-formed, foaming at the tip and ready to crash at a moment’s notice. It’s poised and intimidating even if it stands only waist-high.

After they set up all of their stuff, Lance grabs a hold of Keith’s hands and brings him to the water’s edge. “It’s weird to see it so still.”

“Is it cold?” Keith asks as Lance takes the first few steps into the water. As he steps into the water, the liquid quickly fills in the area around his feet and his ankles; the isolated movement is even stranger than seeing the sea frozen.

Lance shivers slightly but smiles more widely than Keith has ever seen. “It’s perfect.”

“I don’t believe you.” Keith pulls against Lance’s grip and growls when the alpha steps forward and hefts Keith over his shoulder. “Lance! Put me down,” but Keith knows that he doesn’t sound threatening through all of the laughter.

“I’m making sure to keep you safe. You said you can’t swim, right?” Lance’s chest is vibrating with the laughter. It’s the only sound in the whole universe, and Keith loves it.

Lance walks out until he’s waist deep in water, his hand a firm weight on the backs of Keith’s thighs. Keith’s arms squeeze around Lance’s waist, and he’s not sure if he feels a little queasy from the strange motion of riding on Lance’s shoulder or the anxiety of jumping into the ocean for the first time.

“Ready?” Lance asks.

“I don’t know.” Keith clings a little tighter to Lance.

Lance shifts Keith’s weight on his shoulder. “Don’t worry. I won’t let anything happen to you.”

Swallowing harshly, Keith nods against Lance’s back. He’s slowly shifted down Lance’s front. He can feel every inch of Lance’s skin — the heat and smoothness of his chest and the shapely contours of his abdomen.

Before he even realizes it, he’s waist deep in the water besides Lance. They’re chest to chest, and Keith is gazing up those few inches at him.

Lance’s smile is soft, a delicate thing that seems to be derived completely on Keith being beside him. “Hi,” he sighs, and Keith can feel the gentle brush of his breath against his lips.

“Hi,” Keith echoes, pulling away just enough that he can think clearly again.

“Now, that’s not so bad, right?” Lance’s energy is once again up as he steps away from Keith and dives into the shallow water.

He pops up and slicks back his hair, and with the single shaft of sunlight reflecting off the water behind him, he looks like a model. All golden skin and muscled physique. It makes Keith’s mouth dry.

Lance rushes to his side and gently splashes his stomach with water. “Come on, slowpoke.”

And in a moment, Keith’s following him out into the water until they’re both laying on their backs and staring at the sky. The water settles around his face, bobbing up higher with each breath. But with Lance beside him, Keith isn’t worried about submerging. Instead, he traces the now familiar patterns in the clouds.

“I don’t think I want this to end,” Lance confesses.

“Me too. And not just because it’s hell week back on campus,” Keith mumbles, and it makes Lance laugh so hard he has to drop beneath the waves or risk choking on the water rushing into his mouth.

“I agree. It’s nice not worrying about the three papers I have due by the end of next week,” Lance jokes as he wipes water from his eyes. A few moments later, Lance’s laughter has subsided and he continues to float beside Keith. “But I’m also looking forward to you eventually meeting my family,” Lance says with a dreamy sigh.

As they stare at the sky, drifting peacefully in the motionless ocean, their fingertips brush. It’s like a spark even out at sea. And Keith craves even more contact with Lance.

Keith attempts to glance over at Lance but only gets a mouth full of water for his trouble. “All four siblings too?” he coughs out.

“Oh, it’s not just them.”

Keith sits up suddenly to look at Lance, and he is forced to stand in order to avoid sinking beneath the surface. “How huge is your family?”

Lance cracks a smile. “Well, Rachel is expecting a baby soon, and Marco just recently got married. Louis has two kids already. So I have four siblings, three with partners. Two niblings with one on the way. And of course my parents and grandparents and cousins if we’re counting that far.”

“What the hell is a nibling?”

“My niece and nephew, ya know? Nibling.” Lance gazes up at him, bringing one arm up to shield his eyes from the sun.

Keith huffs a laugh and settles back next to him, gaze fixed on the immovable sky above. “That sounds nice.”

“It’s loud and a lot sometimes, but it is nice.” Lance pauses for a minute, and even though they haven’t been stuck together long, Keith knows that Lance is thinking. He’s a talkative guy, speaking whatever comes to mind with a passion that Keith normally only sees when someone is truly in love with their topic of conversation. But when Lance takes his time, pieces out what to say, it’s normally something serious. “What about you? You’ve mentioned your parents and the Shiroganes, but…” the words die off in his throat.

Keith heaves a sigh. He debates sinking beneath the surface and never answering Lance’s question, but the alpha has been so kind with everything Keith has told him so far. It makes it easier to trust. “It’s not that long of a story. My mom left when I was really young, too young to really remember her. Pop never really said why. He was a firefighter, lost his life when I was ten in a house fire that took out a whole block of rowhomes.” Keith pauses, allowing the thickness in his throat to dissipate. “I was at St Patrick’s Orphanage for a while, but the Shiroganes took me in when I was fourteen. I’ve been with them ever since.”

“Keith,” Lance says his name like it’s something precious, like it’s a caress with mere words, “that sounds really hard. I’m sorry for your loss.”

And Keith is used to empty platitudes, but somehow, he can feel how genuine Lance is.

“Thanks.” He reaches out and grabs hold of Lance’s hand, enjoying the warmth and the new found familiarity of it. “It would really mean a lot for you to meet Mr. and Mrs. Shirogane, and especially Shiro. He’s — he’s my best friend.”

“Even after you stole his car?” Lance chuckles, squeezing Keith’s hand tight like he might try to pull it away.

“Yeah, even after that.” 

They stay in the water until their hands turn pruny and their stomachs growl for food. Stumbling out of the tide, they collapse onto their towels and pull snacks out of the bag Lance had grabbed from the store.

The afternoon is filled with conversation and snacking and laughter and sandcastles that are a mess but Keith loves them.

After hours on the beach, Keith feels exhausted and settles on his towel with a sigh. Lance is quick to follow him, tugging off his tank top and lying in the sun. Keith burrows a little more under the shade of the umbrella, unsure if he would get sunburn in this frozen world but unwilling to test it.

“This makes me think of Veradero,” Lance breathes as he stares out at the endless ocean before them.

“Where’s that?” Keith asks as he leans out of the shade and into the singular shaft of sunlight on the beach. The sun is warm against his skin, heating where the water had cooled him down.

Lance sighs wistfully as he lets a handful of sand drift between his fingers. “Cuba.”

“That’s really cool. You’ve been there before?” Keith leans up slightly, shielding his eyes so that he can watch as Lance speaks.

“Yeah, my family’s from there. My grandparents still live there, but we all moved to the United States when I was eleven.” Lance rubs at the back of his neck, and flecks of sand stick to the perspiration there. “We’ve gone back to visit a couple times, and it’s beautiful.”

“That’s so nice. It sounds like family is really important to you.”

“It is.” Lance shields his eyes with a sandy hand and gazes up towards the sun. “Beyond important. They’re a little overbearing and loud at times, but we’d do anything for each other.” He lets out a light laugh, something airy and content, before saying, “You know that includes you now, right?”

Keith’s breath stops in his chest, sudden and frozen and all too unexpected. He glances up at Lance, taking in the alpha in his natural element. His hair is drying with the sea salt, curling at the edges and drifting across his forehead and into his ocean gaze. His smile is as blinding as the sun above them, and just as warm.

He hates how he sudden feels like crying. “Oh. Wow, that’s really — thank you, Lance.”

“And don’t worry, I know they’ll love you. I mean, what’s not to love.” His smile is boyish, wide and jubilant — the same smile that greeted Keith when the world stopped.

“You’re such a flirt,” Keith laughs as he lightly pushes at Lance’s shoulder.

“It’s true though!” Lance chuckles, light and airy and everything today has been. “All my parents want someone who loves me, and —” Lance’s eyes catch Keith’s. A moment passes between them, where Keith swears that Lance can hear the thundering of his heart. “ — and I feel like that’s something I can hope for between us.”

Keith nods, leaning forward and caught in Lance’s gravity. “Yeah,” he sighs.

Lance tips his head back and chuckles. “Wow, I feel like time could start up again right now.”

Keith’s breath catches in his chest. It’s the closest thing to a confession that he’s heard from Lance, and he wants to catch it — bottle it up so that he can save it for later. Or replicate the delicate balance of Lance’s scent, the sunshine happiness and the fresh blooms of affection, so that he can replay this moment every day.

“Lance,” Keith reaches out desperate to touch the alpha beside him, “I feel the same.”

If the world hadn’t already stopped around them, Keith swears it would now. He’s caught in the pull of Lance’s gaze, torn asunder from his very own body and drifting towards his alpha. He settles back in his skin by the gentle touch of Lance’s knuckles to his face.

The alpha’s fingers trace along Keith’s cheek and tuck a wayward strand of hair behind his ear. But the touch lingers, fingers digging into the loose hairs at the nape of his neck. The edge of his palm brushes against Keith’s scent gland — and suddenly the air around them is saturated in his honeyed spiced scent.

“Keith,” Lance breathes, leaning down and inhaling his scent on instinct. “Can I kiss you?” The question is soft, and if there had been the crash of waves or the soft ocean breeze, Keith is sure he would’ve missed it.

“Please,” Keith begs, pressing into the space between them.

It’s like the world starts again — an explosion of color and fireworks and the sudden loss of gravity. Keith feels like he’s floating, and the only parts of him that keep him pinned to the ground are bound beneath Lance’s touch.

His lips are smooth as they fumble together in Keith’s first kiss. It’s awkward and a little too slow, but it’s perfect. It’s everything to Keith.

Lance tastes like sea salt and the caramel popcorn they stole from the beachside store earlier. It’s addicting, especially with the added notes of Lance’s scent in the air — flourishing with affection and love, if Keith dares to say.

They pull back slightly, resting their foreheads against each other to breathe. Keith presses in closer to Lance, desperate to stitch up the space between them.

“Wow,” Lance exhales, and his breath fans across Keith’s lips.

It’s instinct to lick his lips and pull the bottom one between his teeth. He catches Lance’s eyes tracing the movement.

“Wow,” Keith echoes. “Are all kisses like that?”

“Why don’t we find out,” Lance purrs as he closes the distance between them once again. It’s a rush of heat, an exhilaration that Keith can’t name — that nothing could replicate. It’s exuberance and joy and light, but the second he’s away from Lance’s lips, he feels like he’s without oxygen.

Keith pushes up on his knees and climbs into Lance’s lap, enjoying the heated press of them together. It’s luxury and opulence. It’s everything he’s ever dreamed of.

His hands trace the toned muscles of Lance’s shoulders and down the length of his arms. His fingers wind into the curling locks of Lance’s hair. He traces along the alpha’s spine and forces himself to memorize the heat of his skin and the comforting press of their chests.

Lance’s hands wander a different path than Keith’s. They cling to his waist, keeping him still before his fingers curl under the hem of his t-shirt. His palm settles on Keith’s stomach before winding around his back and tugging them chest to chest. Not even a breath of space between them.

When they finally separate, Keith can’t keep his hands from Lance’s body. They’ve carved a place for themselves between the natural curves of his muscles.

“I never thought it would be like _that_ ,” Lance whispers, tucking his face against Keith’s neck, but avoiding nudging at his scent gland. Even though they’ve kissed, scenting is an intimacy that neither of them have experienced.

“Me too.” Keith nuzzles his nose into the top of Lance’s hair and inhales the scent of the sea that smells so much like his alpha.

“Want to crash a hotel room for the night?” Lance asks, raising one eyebrow and motioning to the hotels that overlook the ocean not two blocks away.

Keith can’t fight his grin. Being with Lance is infectious. It’s like breathing in pure joy and lightness. “The penthouse suite?”

“Only the best for my omega,” Lance purrs and Keith can feel himself melting at the title. Never before had he wanted to be called by his secondary gender, but Lance makes it sound like a pet name and a compliment more so than an insult.

With a laugh, Keith grabs hold of Lance’s hand as they jog off the beach, leaving their borrowed towels and umbrellas behind.

· · ───── ·𖥸· ───── · ·

The suite is grander than any house or apartment Keith has ever seen. It’s all polished marble, white and pristine. The kitchen is larger than his entire dorm room, equipped with an island the size of a bed, an espresso machine, and a mini fridge full of booze.

There are multiple rooms, but the master suite has a king size bed with a draping canopy atop it, crafted of gauzy white material. Before the bed are large windows that look out onto the ocean with an uninterrupted view.

The bathroom has a tub big enough for two and a standing shower with a rainfall feature.

It’s luxury in the simplest of forms.

Lance throws himself down on the bed with a squeal. “Wow, I wish room service was still a thing even though everything is frozen.”

“We could try to cook something fancy ourselves.” Keith shrugs as he walks to the large windows and looks out at the sea.

“Have you ever cooked before?”

“I’ve helped with Thanksgiving and stuff at the Shiroganes. And sometimes I would help my dad with barbeque.” Keith says, before turning on Lance and raising an eyebrow. “What about you?”

Lance grimaces. “My mom is a wonderful cook so we’re all a little spoiled.”

“You can make pancakes though.”

“True!” Lance punctuates his exclamation with a leap off the bed. “But that’s Hunk’s recipe, and he made it kind of foolproof so that it’s impossible to mess up.”

“Well, what’s the worst that can happen?” Keith asks as he strides towards the door to exit the penthouse.

· · ───── ·𖥸· ───── · ·

An hour later with two charred filet mignon and undercooked pasta, Lance and Keith grimace as they pick at what they’ve created.

“At least it’s got a good crunch,” Lance says between cringing bites of the steak. His eyebrows fluctuate between furrowed and raised with each bite.

“I don’t think it’s supposed to have a crunch though,” Keith chuckles pushing the meat over with the side of his fork. “Do we want to see if the restaurant across the street has any already prepared food?”

Lance grimaces as he swallows down the single bit of filet. “Yes, please.”

Twenty minutes later, they are seated at one of the tables and enjoying a glass of red wine and a plate of hors devours. Keith can’t keep down his smile as he watches Lance talk about meeting his best friend Hunk in second grade.

It's a luxury to be in this restaurant, to sneak into the penthouse, to see the beach in the middle of the week. It's a luxury for the world to be stopped around him. And Keith fears that it won’t ever end or that it’ll end too soon. 

But Keith’s determined to enjoy it all while it lasts.

· · ───── ·𖥸· ───── · ·

After they’ve eaten and individually rinsed off in the enormous shower, Keith finds Lance standing at the large windows that overlook the ocean. He’s holding a cup of coffee in hand. A decorative blanket from the end of the bed is haphazardly draped over one shoulder and held on by the mere cross of his arms.

“I’ve never seen a view like this,” Keith whispers as he towels off his hair. He drops the towel around his neck as his hair sticks to the nape of his skin.

“Me too. It’s breathtaking.” Lance’s voice is as quiet as Keith’s.

Keith bumps Lance’s shoulder. “What’s next on our list? A moonlit walk along the beach? Well, we can’t really do moonlight right now.”

“I’d love to go to the boardwalk or an amusement park, but none of those are really running.” Lance shrugs like it’s something easy to ignore.

Because that’s the double-edged sword of this time. They’re together for as long as needed to fall in love, but can they really experience life together? Is it really living if the world never moves around them?

As much as Keith loves the ease of this, of the luxury he’s never before experienced, he wishes that Shiro could meet Lance — gauge him for all he’s worth. Shiro’s never been an aggressive protector, but he’s assured and confident and a leader that people admire, so much so that people mistake him for an alpha. And he’s the best judge of character that Keith has ever met.

He wants Shiro to accept Lance, because Keith knows that he feels more for this alpha than he has ever felt before. But he also wants to test Lance’s mettle, to see how he stands up against the most important person in Keith’s life, to see if he measures up. And to be satisfied with Shiro’s approval, assured that this was the right thing for Keith.

But time has stopped.

So all they can do is think of the next place to go, the next adventure to embrace.

· · ───── ·𖥸· ───── · ·

They spend a single night in the penthouse, curled on either side of the bed only to wake tangled in each other’s arms. Keith’s not sure who woke first, but his face is buried against Lance’s chest with one leg shoved between his alpha’s. All he can smell is their day at the beach, all sunshine and the salt of the ocean. He buries a little deeper into Lance and inhales steadily.

“Good morning,” Lance grumbles in a hoarse voice that’s thick with sleep. It vibrates through his chest, and Keith can hear it from where he’s pressed.

Rather than shying away from their intimate positioning, Lance throws an arm over Keith’s waist and tugs him all that much closer.

“Morning,” Keith mumbles into Lance’s chest, winding his hand across Lance’s hips and enjoying the press of their bodies.

Lance tips his head down and buries his face in Keith’s hair. “You smell like hotel shampoo. Not like yourself.” It simultaneously sounds like a compliment and an insult, but Lance inhales deeply and sighs against Keith’s messy locks. “What’d you want to do today?”

“Pancakes.”

“What about after pancakes?”

Keith pulls his head back so that he can peer into Lance’s eyes. They’re half-lidded with sleep, and his smile is a weak, tired thing. His hair is a mess, curling around his ears and frizzy at the top of his head. But he’s so beautiful it takes Keith’s breath away.

They’re close enough to kiss, and the fact that that possibility is a reality now makes Keith’s heart stutter in his chest. Lance smirks, and Keith’s gaze jumps to his alpha’s eyes, knowing that he’s been caught staring.

“What if we toured New York? Like did all the touristy stuff?”

Lance’s eyes blink open a little more assuredly. “No lines and no fees.”

“Exactly.”

“But we’d have to walk up all of the stairs of the Empire State building ourselves. No elevator,” Lance groans at the thought and pulls Keith closer to him.

Keith chuckles and allows himself to be drawn into Lance’s chest. “We do have all the time in the world.”

· · ───── ·𖥸· ───── · ·

They do all the touristy stuff without the photographs, because they don’t exist outside of their little pocket in time. Instead, Keith makes sure to imprint the jubilant smiles and laughs Lance uses as they stand at the base of Liberty Island or at the top of the Empire State Building. They walk along the Broadway and see all the flashing lights for the current musicals.

Lance comments that when the world starts up again, they should come see a show. And while Keith isn’t the biggest fan of musicals, a trip with Lance sounds like a little piece of heaven.

After New York, they tour Philadelphia, Boston, up and down the east coast. Until they’ve seen all they cared about. Disney World is only half as magical when you can’t go on any of the rides or interact with the characters.

Then they head inward, stopping in Tennessee and New Orleans, seeing everything their hotel pamphlets suggest to them.

They stop when things interest them and leave when the novelty wears off. In every city they visit, one of them will point out the most ostentatious hotel for them to crash. Each penthouse feels like something out of a movie, too fancy to be a part of Keith’s reality.

But everyday feels like a lesson in repetition. The sky stays the same. The weather stays the same. The clocks stay the same. When they wake, it’s always midday. When they’re dragging their feet up to the penthouse they’ve taken refuge in, it’s midday.

Despite the passage of time between them, the world is frozen. And Keith had known about the phenomenon of soulmates, but everything outside of Lance feels like menotiny. Everyday with Lance still feels like a miracle, feels like something miraculous, but the never ending serenity grates on Keith’s nerves.

Until finally, he slumps onto the leather couch of their penthouse in Chicago. His feet are kicked up on the arm rest while his forearm hangs over his eyes. “I don’t know how your cousin did seven months of this.”

Lance’s voice is small when he finally speaks. “What do you mean?”

At the tone of Lance’s voice, Keith sits up immediately and gazes at his alpha across the room. He’s holding two cups of steaming hot chocolate with the perfect swirls whipped cream on top. After he sets them down, Lance settles on the couch next to Keith but too far to touch.

“I didn’t mean it like that,” Keith sighs, scrubbing a hand over his face. He can tell exactly what Lance is thinking by the standoffish nature to his body language. “I’ve been loving everything we’ve been doing, but…” Keith fumbles over his words unable to voice the restlessness within his lungs.

“It’s like running in place,” Lance offers, eyes downcast and shoulders hunched.

“Yes, exactly. I love spending time with you, and this trip has been beyond amazing.” Keith sighs and keeps his eyes fixed on Lance. It’s so strange to see him so deflated. Normally he’s bubbly beyond reason. But his shoulders are hunched into himself as he plays with the loose strings on the edges of his pants.

Lance flops back against the couch and fixes his gaze on the ceiling. “But it still doesn’t feel real, right? It’s almost hard to breathe.”

And suddenly Keith’s eyes are watering. There’s a tightness in his throat that’s hard to even breath around. He bites his lip and hides beneath his bangs, but he knows it’s too late. His scent has soured, saturating the air around them. Before Lance can say anything, the words are tumbling out of Keith’s mouth, “I know that I really like you, and every moment that the world is stopped, it makes me feel like it’s not enough.”

A warm hand settles on his shoulder, and without thought, Keith curls himself into Lance’s chest. His hands claw at his alpha’s t-shirt, pulling him closer. The scent of his alpha is calming, warmed sand and salty ocean spray, and Keith allows himself to be lulled by it.

Keith’s next words are a whisper, “What if everything I’m feeling is just because of our soulmate bond? What if I’m too broken to love?”

“You’re not,” Lance assures him, pulling Keith closer to his chest like he belongs there — like this is a place he’s carved out for himself.

“How do you know that?” It’s a question as much as it is an accusation. Keith buries his face deeper into Lance’s chest to hide the tears that spill unwillingly from his eyes.

“Because of Shiro and your adoptive parents. You love them —”

“That’s not the same!”

“ — it might not be the same, but it proves that you have the capability for love, Keith. You aren’t broken. You are enough for me and for everything.” Lance’s hands are brushing up and down Keith’s spine and steadying his breaths. It’s like the gentle sway of the ocean.

His grip on Lance’s shirt relaxes, and he can feel the tension leak from his muscles. “What if I’m the reason we’re stuck here?”

“Everyday with you is a blessing, Keith. Whether it is here and now or tomorrow.” Lance’s voice is steady, firm and unrelenting, the kind of assuredness that Keith has longed for. “I’m not going anywhere, cariño. I’ll stay by your side forever.”

“Promise?” Keith whispers, scrubbing at his eyes.

Lance gives him a warm smile. “I promise.”

And Keith finds it strange how he believes Lance unfailingly, but maybe that was the true power of soulmates.

· · ───── ·𖥸· ───── · ·

After Chicago, they head back to campus. Keith wasn’t really sure whose idea it was, but somehow, after Keith’s confession, it just felt right to go back to some semblance of their normal lives.

They’ve only been back to campus for a week when Keith starts to notice the signs.

There’s a flushed color to his cheeks that never seems to fade. Sudden hot flashes hit him out of nowhere, climbing up his body like waves of heat in the desert. Another change is that his scent takes on that honeyed nature even when Keith isn’t feeling particularly happy; it’s almost overbearing in it’s sweetness.

And there’s the sudden reluctance to leave Lance’s side. Panic and anxiety rise when the alpha is out of his sight for only a couple minutes. It’s consuming and devastating, and Keith almost can’t hold back his whimper. He clings to Lance in a way that makes him cringe at his own desperation, but he can’t seem to hold himself back.

Lance indulges him at every turn — with sweet smiles and baked delicacies from the bakery on the farthest edge of campus and subtle moments that Keith relishes in (moments where their eyes meet, or Lance tucks a strand of hair behind his ear, or his scent overwhelms Keith like a wave upon the sand).

They’re sitting in the middle of the quad amongst all of their frozen students when Keith finally says, “I’m in pre-heat.”

The sandwich Lance is eating stops halfway to his mouth, but his jaw remains open. “What?” he croaks.

“I — It wasn’t scheduled to happen for another month,” Keith whispers, and it feels like a bigger admission than it is — an enormous fact that broadcasts his feelings for Lance and their bodies’ compatibility.

“Oh,” Lance wheezes like he’s been punched in the stomach and the wind has been knocked out of him.

“Yeah.” Keith fiddles with the sandwich Lance had made him. The bread is soft beneath his fingers as he pulls a piece of the crust off. He’d taken one bite before it had made his stomach turn, too soft and the inner edge of the bread was almost soggy with jelly.

Gazing up from beneath his bangs, Keith watches Lance process the information. His brow is furrowed as he slowly places the sandwich down on the plate before him. His hands drop to the towels they’d brought back from the beach and laid out to sit on. They curl into the fabric, and Keith wants to imagine that Lance is holding back the urge to touch him. His scent is a duality of pride and fear, a thunderstorm on the horizon with the sweet notes of sunshine brightening his scent. All Keith wants to do is stitch up the space between them and bury his face in Lance’s neck, to smell that scent up close, to run his lips along his pulse.

To finally give into the instincts that have been purring at the back of his mind since he met his alpha.

When Keith catches himself, he’s on his knees hovering over Lance, nose only a few inches from the collar of his shirt. The alpha has placed a gentle hand on his chest, but it doesn’t feel like he’s pushing Keith away, just checking the distance between them.

“Keith,” Lance whispers, and it’s the only sound in the entire world.

Keith wets his lips and catches Lance’s eyes following the motion. “Can I scent you?”

Lance’s hand drops from Keith’s chest and curls around his waist, drawing him forward. One of his knees slips between Lance’s legs as they press chest to chest. They’re poised on the edge of a cliff, between ascension and demise.

And caution is nothing but a word now.

Using trembling fingers, Lance peels off his scent blockers and tosses the piece of paper to the ground.

Even without closing the distance Keith’s eyes roll back. Lance smells amazing — just like their day on the beach, laughter and sea salt and the heat that saturates the sand. Like the addictive scent before the rain, the moistened earth and freshness of a cleaning torrent. 

With a shuddering inhale, Keith closes the distance between them.

His nose brushes Lance’s warm skin, and he can practically taste Lance’s heartbeat.

It’s addicting being this close to Lance without his scent blockers. Without thought, a small whine pulls from the back of his throat. He wants to taste Lance, and by the fingers curling into his waist and brushing the hair at the nape of his neck, he feels encouraged to drag his lips along the tender flesh of Lance’s throat.

“Keith,” Lance sighs, and tilts his head to the side, exposing his throat even more. It’s a vulnerability that Keith didn’t expect from an alpha, and he relishes in it. He takes up the extra space, presses himself more fully to Lance and inhales as deeply as possible. “Can I—” Keith can hear and feel Lance’s harsh swallow as he gathers his words, “Can I scent you too?”

Keith turns boneless at the ask, collapsing his weight against Lance’s chest and tilting his head to the side.

He’s never been this vulnerable with anyone, never bared himself or allowed someone this close to him. They’ve all smelled the strong spice of his scent at a distance. But even amongst all of these frozen people, in the middle of the quad, Keith feels safe — and it startles him, because he’s never felt like this regarding his heats before.

“Alpha,” Keith purrs as Lance’s nose trails along his scent gland and encourages more waves of his honeyed scent to curl into the air around them.

“Keith. Keith,” Lance says, lips brushing Keith’s heated skin with every word. “Keith.” It’s like his name is a chant, the only thing Lance can say.

And in the safety of his alpha’s arms, Keith allows himself to rest.

· · ───── ·𖥸· ───── · ·

He wakes curled in his alpha’s scent. It’s saturated into the sheets, soft and blue and comforting as they wrap around him. Reaching across the bed, Keith feels for Lance, desperate to pull the alpha to his side. They only started sharing a bed at the beginning of their trip, but Keith already feels accustomed to reaching to the right and finding Lance.

But there’s only more sheets and empty air.

Sitting up straight, Keith realizes that he’s tucked in Lance’s bed. He’s swimming in an abundance of sheets while wearing only the boxers he’d put on this morning.

His legs are shaky, wilted and unstable as he pads out of bed. There’s a shirt thrown over the back of Lance’s desk chair, and Keith realizes that it’s the white tee from their first meeting. Pulling it on, Keith luxuriates in the scent of his alpha so close. It’s a little long, the hem ending right below his crotch while the sleeves billow around his elbows.

Slowly walking across the room, Keith places his hands on the door and inhales.

Lance is on the other side. He knows it. The scent of his alpha is so strong, like rumbling waves and thunder on the horizon; sunshine and the scent before the rain. It’s every bit as enticing as it is dangerous, and maybe even more because of the hint of danger.

Keith yanks on the doorknob, but the door doesn’t budge.

“Keith,” Lance's voice is muffled through the door, “are you alright?”

Scratching his fingernails down the length of the door, Keith whimpers. “Alpha. Come here. Why are you outside?”

“I’m out here for you, sweetheart. I’m protecting you, and I can only do that from out here.” There’s a pause, and Keith presses his ear against the door so that he can hear even the faintest exhales from his alpha. “I want you to keep feeling safe with me.”

Keith wants to complain, to tear at the door and fight to get to his alpha, and he’s sure that later in his heat when he’s delirious beyond reason, he will.

Now, he stalks away from the door and grabs all the blankets and pillows from the bed. He drags them to the door and arranges a nest where he can smell his alpha, hear his voice, and whisper to him.

“Will you talk to me, alpha?” Keith asks, voice already thick with exhaustion. He curls around one of Lance’s pillows with his back pressed to the door. The wood is cool against his heated skin, but he wants to be as close to Lance as possible.

“Of course,” Lance whispers with his voice thick with emotions Keith doesn’t have the energy to decipher. “What do you want me to talk about?”

“Anything.”

Lance hums in thought. “Well, did I ever tell you about when Rachel met her soulmate?”

Keith mumbles in response. With his face buried in the pillow and a wave of sleep quickly approaching, Keith barely understands any of the words Lance says, but he enjoys the cadence of his voice. He falls asleep to the gentle sway of Lance’s story like a boat out at sea.

· · ───── ·𖥸· ───── · ·

His heat passes quickly with only a few embarrassing episodes that he can remember — clawing at the door and wailing for Lance, for his alpha. Keith blushes at the phrases he’d used and how he’d enjoyed the frustrated growls Lance had given in return. But the entire heat, Lance sat outside the door and guarded Keith.

It was the safest Keith has ever felt, cherished without even needed to be touched.

The morning he wakes up lucid with only a fragment of honey clinging to his scent, Keith knocks politely on the door. “Uh, hey, Lance. Can — can I take a shower?”

In a few fumbling minutes, Keith and Lance have shoved all the soiled blankets into the washer. Their hands brush as they overfill the washing machine, and Keith can’t help his burning blush. Lance seems to have the same reaction, scratching at his neck and refusing to meet Keith’s gaze.

“So, uh, the bathroom is right here, but you — you already know that. Take all the time you need.” Lance shoves his hands into his pockets and rolls back on his heels.

Keith nods and shuts the door behind him.

Panic like a shock of lightning ignites his nerves. He yanks the door open, only to see Lance standing in the same position he was seconds prior. “Will — will you still guard the door?” Keith feels dumb for even asking.

Especially since the entire world around them is frozen.

But he can’t help the safety he feels with Lance guarding the door and swearing that no one will touch him.

“Of course.” Lance smiles like it’s the easiest thing in the world.

And maybe it is.

Keith closes the door and enjoys the feeling of clean skin. His fingers sink into the thick mess of knots at the nape of his neck and slowly untangle it with gentle hands and a lot of conditioner. His thighs are shaky and take a couple of washes to rid them of the slick residue.

Stepping from the shower, he feels refreshed.

Lance knocks softly on the door and passes him a clean set of clothes, all of them smelling so much like Lance that Keith feels his knees weaken. It’s a baggy t-shirt with a dolphin logo screen printed crooked on the front and a couple of organizations detailed on the back. The briefs that Lance gives him are salmon colored and soft against his irritated skin, while the sweat pants are old and loved and on the verge of pilling. It feels like heaven to slip it all on.

Padding out of the bathroom, Lance is standing beside the door and playing a game on his phone. He locks the screen and gives Keith his full attention.

“Want to make pancakes?” Lance’s voice is all enthusiasm as he takes Keith nod as affirmation. Skipping the length of the hallway to the small kitchen at the end, he says, “I wasn’t sure you’d want to go out, even with all of the —”

He suddenly stops when Keith plasters himself to Lance’s back, wrapping his arms gently around his waist before squeezing tight. Burying his face between Lance’s shoulder blades, he whispers, “Thank you for taking such good care of me.”

Lance’s harsh chuckle jolts through Keith, and by the dark quality of the laugh, Keith knows it’s not a happy one. He squeezes Lance tighter as his alpha says, “And here I was thinking about how to say sorry.”

“For what?” Keith whispers.

“For not being able to be there for you.” Lance’s hands curl on the edge of the counter as he hunches over. “I wished I could’ve physically been there, but — but I didn’t trust myself enough to be around you when you smelled so good and — and I would throw myself into traffic before doing anything you didn’t want. I wouldn’t put you in danger like that.”

Lance exhales deeply, and Keith can feel every tense muscle beneath his grip.

“Lance —”

“You just sounded like you were in so much pain, and I couldn’t do anything but sit outside the door.” Lance slams his hand into the counter as a sob catches in his throat. “I’m so sorry, Keith. If only I were stronger —”

“You have nothing to apologize for.”

Lance’s chest shudders beneath Keith’s arms. He exhales, “But I —” 

“You’ve treated me with more respect than any other alpha I have ever met.” Keith curls his arms more tightly around Lance’s chest and settles his palms on his breastbone. Tucking his chin into Lance’s shoulder blades, Keith mumbles, “I’m not sure if this will make you feel better or worse, but that was the best heat I’ve ever had.”

“What?” Lance gasps, turning away from the counter and rotating in his grip to face Keith. His arms are still wound around Lance’s body as the alpha leans his back against the counter and settles his palms on Keith’s cheeks. “But — but you sounded like you were in so much pain. Even with my sister, she never sounded like that.”

“Most of my heats have been dry.” Keith chews on his bottom lip and settles his chin on Lance’s chest, unable to meet his eyes.

Keith can feel Lance’s muffled gasp beneath his palms.

Dry heats were infamous. With a lack of safety or comfort or even heightened anxiety, an omega could fail to produce slick. The internal organs responsible for slick would clench up, causing an unimaginable amount of pain while simultaneously decreasing libido.

This was the first heat where Keith had ever felt desire for someone, rather than just for the pain to end. Whatever aching emptiness he had within him paled in comparison to the pain that had proceeded. 

“I’d never felt safe enough. Even with the Shiroganes, I —” Keith huffs all of the stale air from his lungs, struggling to get the words out, “— the heat specialists said that I had too much trauma from presenting in the orphanage and from the subsequent heats to expect normal heats anytime soon.”

A moment of silence passes between them. If it weren’t for the sweetness in Lance’s scent, Keith would worry that the prospect of the dry heating hurting his fertility was upsetting his alpha. But Lance winds his arms over Keith’s shoulders and sinks one hand into his hair. The other traces delicate patterns across his shoulder blades.

“I made you feel that safe,” Lance exhales against the top of Keith’s hair, hair blowing in the muted breath.

Keith shifts his weight to one hip, pulling back just enough so that he can gauge Lance’s reaction. “You guarded my door the whole time, didn’t you?”

“Yeah. _Yeah_.” Lance seems determined to keep his hands on Keith’s body, despite the tears that linger on his cheeks. Keith reaches one hand up and caresses each teardrop away. His alpha looks windswept and salt stained, and all Keith wants to do is pull Lance to his chest, just as the alpha has done with him time and time again. So he does, and Lance whispers, “I would never leave you, cariño.”

They sway to unheard music, maybe to the beat of his heart pressed to Lance’s ear. His alpha’s breathing has settled when Keith finally asks, “What does that mean?”

“Hm?”

“Cariño? You’ve said it several times, but you never told me what it means.”

Lance pulls himself away from Keith’s chest and cups his jaw. His alpha’s hands are warm and steady, pulling him up so they’re only a breath away from kissing. “It’s a pet name in Spanish. It means love, honey, darling, sweetheart, all of the above. The epitome of domestic bliss.”

Keith chuckles and allows himself to press up into Lance’s kiss.

It’s blissful, and everything Keith had always wished for but never expected to receive.

· · ───── ·𖥸· ───── · ·

It’s just a normal day when it all happens.

Keith is lounging in Lance’s apartment. It’s been part of their routine for the last week. His feet are shoved under Lance’s thigh as they’re both curled up on the loveseat. A show is playing in the background, some National Geographic program that Lance really likes. Keith is half paying attention while reading a book on his phone.

He glances up at Lance and watches the way excitement builds on his features. His smile rises gradually, something he’s doing without thought. His eyebrows are raised and his eyes are wide. With each passing minute, he curls a little closer to the television until he’s practically on the edge of the seat.

“Keith, did you hear that?” Lance asks pointing towards the screen and giving Keith the full force of that excited expression.

“Hm?” He hums, unable to attempt to piece together what the show was saying. His screen has long fallen dark as he was gazing at Lance.

“They said that coral has a limestone skeleton. Did you know that?” He turns his attention back to the screen, entirely enraptured with the view under the water.

And Keith sighs, and smiles to himself and the sweetest alpha that sits by his side.

Part of him longs to pull Lance against him, to present his neck and let his alpha claim him so that everyone will know that he belongs to someone — that he isn’t cursed or scorned because of his parents love, that he isn’t unloveable. That he is someone worthy of something special.

And suddenly the world around them shifts.

Keith shudders to a stop, shoes skidding across the pavement of the quad as everyone around them bursts into motion. His shirt is clinging to his chest from the still-drying coffee stain. His breath is bursting from his chest, and the air around him is saturated with his stressed scent. The paper in the bottom of his backpack is a heavy weight around his shoulders.

His phone alarm rings one more time, warning him that he only has three minutes to get in the door before Professor Sandoval locks them all out.

But he can’t help but turn around and spot Lance amongst the moving crowd. They’re both frozen, watching each other as the world around them moves. It’s strange to see, so unnatural from the two months they spent together.

“Lance,” Keith breathes, as they close the distance between them.

Lance’s hands grab hold of Keith’s cheeks. “You love me.”

“Yeah,” Keith huffs a watery chuckle, wrapping his arms around Lance’s waist and bringing them chest to chest.

“God, I think I’ve loved you from the very instant I saw you,” Lance confesses before bringing them together for a bruising kiss. They part and all Keith wants is more — more of Lance’s kisses, his touch, his attention, his love. But Lance pulls them farther apart. “Go turn in your essay and text me after your class. I can’t wait for our life together to really begin.”

“Me too,” Keith breathes before rising up on his toes and kissing Lance goodbye. “I love you.”

“I love you too,” Lance chuckles before turning Keith around and marching them through the crowd. “But I won’t have you hating me over missing your class.”

Keith laughs and pulls out of Lance’s grasp, jogging the rest of the way to the Diabazzal Center of Arts and Sciences. Just before he slips into the building, he glances back at Lance. His alpha is standing right where he left him, one hand pressed to the nape of his neck and over his scent gland — like he’s so happy that he can’t trust the scent blockers to keep it from the air around him.

Keith can’t fight his smile as he slips into Professor Sandoval’s class with only 30 seconds to spare.

He attempts to iron out the crinkles in the paper with his hands before shrugging his shoulders and giving up.

Settling into his seat in the back of the class, Keith is anxious for his day to end. To spend time with Lance while the sun moves and the clock chimes. To meet Lance’s roommate, his friends, and his family, and for Lance to meet his in return.

Lance is everything Keith has always dreamed of, and he couldn’t ask for anything more.

He never thought that one day the time would come where he would be obnoxiously head over heels for a guy, but now, he can’t wait for everything to truly begin.  
  


**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much for reading this piece, and I hope you enjoyed!!  
> Happy Holidays! °˖✧◝(⁰▿⁰)◜✧˖°
> 
> If you feel like it, you can follow me on [tumblr](https://communikateee.tumblr.com) or [twitter](https://twitter.com/communikateeee)!


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